Anthropologists tell us that father-hunger, a frustrated desire to be blessed by our own fathers, is one of the deepest hungers in the world today, especially among men. Millions of people sense that they have not received their father's blessing. Robert Bly, Robert Moore, Richard Rohr, and James Hillman, among others, offer some rich insights into this.

All over the Internet and social media are lists and quizzes. The following appeared on my news feed on Facebook in the last of couple hours: “Which Disney couple are you and your significant other?”; “50 Cities you should see in your lifetime”; “Why readers, scientifically, are the best people to fall in love with”; “What grade are you mentally in?”

My mother collected them, like many other housewives of her day, and several times a month we would sit at the kitchen table and lick and stick them into the S & H Green Stamp book. I don’t remember ever trading them in for anything. I think the excitement was in the collecting, and the enjoyment in the time spent together.

I recently went on a mission trip with some college students to Moore, Oklahoma. We spent the week building fences for people whose homes had been destroyed as the result of an F5 tornado in May of 2013. We were there a week before the one-year anniversary of that devastating storm. Many things that week made a strong impression on me, but the biggest impression came in an unexpected moment.

“God is dead.” I know some of us, if not all, have heard this saying. What does it mean? It began with the philosopher, Friedrich Nietzsche, in a book called Thus Spoke Zarathustra. In a section in that book, a mad man/prophet runs through a town telling them why God is dead. The conclusion is that we have killed him because we have a lukewarm faith. The only reason we go to Mass or service is to mourn the passing of God. The minister has been reduced to a funeral director in remembering this dead god.